Page 7 of Revenge Puck

His smile dims.

“You literally told me your uncle got you your job,” I continue, heat rushing to my face now. “But somehow it’smycareer being questioned?”

He shrugs. “That’s different.”

“Is it?” I grab my purse and slam the rest of my wine. “Because from where I’m sitting, it sounds like you think men with money get to be important, and everyone else is…lucky to be nearby.”

Silence stretches between us as I glare.

His jaw tightens. “Wow. You’re reading way too much into this.”

“No,” I say calmly, pushing myself out of my chair. “I’m readingexactlyenough into it.”

He exhales through his nose, annoyed now. “You’re being sensitive.”

My mouth gapes.

I am aghast at his audacity! The nerve of him, calling me sensitive.To my freaking face.

“And you’re being condescending. Which, frankly, is worse.”

His eyes widen. “Wait—you’re leaving? Are you fucking serious?”

“Totally.” I toss my hair. “I’m here to celebrate a milestone in my career. Not to be patronized by a man who thinks quoting Shakespeare makes him sound like he has some smarts.”

“Dude, this conversation has gone off the rails so fast.” He squints at me. “What’s the issue here?”

“You’re sexist, that’s what.”

He rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say, babe.”

“Oh my god. Stop calling me babe, asshole.”

This is as close to losing my shit as I’ve ever gotten, not including the time when, as teenagers, Declan slid on my new white sneakers to walk to the mailbox and stepped in the mud, completely ruining them.

Preston watches me spiral. “Guess I dodged a bullet with you.”

With me?! Oh my god, this guy.

“Trust me, Preston.Youdid not.”

I did.

I turn on my heel and stalk toward the exit, pulse pounding in my neck, cheeks burning, dignity intact. The cool night air hits me the second I push through the door. I suck in a breath, trying to shake off the bitter taste of that entire conversation.

“Unbelievable,” I grumble, fishing my phone out of my purse, already dialing my best friend before I even reach the sidewalk.

There was a time I might have also called my brother. Once upon a time, I dated a hockey player; I was young and even more naïve than I am now and thought he loved me.

But I was a teenager, and a fool, and when I thought I could go to Declan for advice, he told me you can’t date potential and the sooner I learned that—the better.

You’re smarter than that, Jules.

But it had only made me feel worse. And so, after my first heartbreak, I also learned if I had boy trouble, I shouldn’t trouble him with the details.

I call my best friend, Blaire Winthrop.

“Blaire—thank god I didn’t have sex with that man. Preston is a mega douche.”